Page 27 of Someone Like You

Today was a grumpy day. They met at the fountain and greeted each other with very manly nods before diving straight into a warm-up jog.

Phil was very grateful to the autumnal temperature for forcing Ian to go from sleeveless tops to full hoodies.

It was much less distracting and more forgiving to Phil’s sensitivity .

The last time Ian had stripped his t-shirt off to give himself a freshen up under the fountain, Phil had had to fake a cramp to sit down and hide the bulge in his shorts.

He didn’t know why a shirtless man had this effect on him and his gorgeous naked girlfriend didn’t.

If he had to be completely honest, with Abby he had never felt the ferocious drive he felt with Ian.

The first time he’d slept with her had been after an awful date where nothing had turned out right: the restaurant had lost their reservation, the rebound restaurant had sucked, and the fireworks they’d planned to watch on a blanket at the park had been cancelled because of a storm.

Back at Abby’s place, they’d thrown their rain-drenched clothes into the drier, planning to have a drink to warm themselves up, but they’d ended up making love on top of the washing machine instead.

Thinking back of that night, Phil couldn’t recall any heat pooling in his crotch, clouding his sanity.

What he could remember was the overwhelming love he’d felt while kissing Abby and how natural it had felt to go all the way with her .

That was a sentiment he couldn’t seem to retrieve, no matter how hard he tried.

The love was still there, bigger and stronger than ever, but it lacked that fiery intensity that took over him when he was around Ian.

Even something as innocent as a pat on the back could trigger an immediate response in Phil’s body, which was thrilling, per se, but nonetheless confusing.

Back home, under the shower, he wondered what it’d feel like to have Ian touching him the way he craved to be touched, kissing his neck, his shoulders, his lips…

It must be funny to kiss someone who had a beard. Phil often imagined splaying his hands on Ian’s chest and letting them explore the hefty pecs, stroking the unfamiliar texture of the dark hair, fondling every inch of muscles while Ian—

He stifled a moan, pressing his forehead against the glass. He couldn’t go on like this.

His knees were still wobbly and his sight blurry when he sneaked out of the bathroom.

Abby was downstairs, but his guilty conscience was unforgiving, keeping him on his toes even if he had no reason to be.

After slipping on a pair of joggers and a sweatshirt, he joined Abby in the living room, where everything was ready for their typical Saturday night dinner: pizza and fries in front of a random trash movie on Netflix.

“Smells good in here,” he said, peering into the pizza box to check the toppings: grilled vegetables and mushrooms. A slice was already missing.

“I swear it was delivered like that!” Abby exclaimed.

Phil smirked. “Poor delivery guy must’ve been hungry.”

He sat down on the couch with the pizza box as Abby snuggled up at his side, pulling the top of the box to her lap in lieu of a tablecloth, and stole her second slice.

Phil didn’t catch the title of the movie, nor was he able to make out what it was about.

Despite his best efforts to be companionable, his mind was elsewhere.

That was, at least, until the two protagonists of the movie inevitably ended up in bed together.

He couldn’t see himself in the possessiveness of the man’s actions, in how rough and greedy he was in undressing and touching the woman everywhere.

But if it’d been a man?

No. Just any man wouldn’t have worked.

“Don’t you miss it?”

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, but didn’t shock Abby as much as they shocked him. Without tearing her eyes off the screen, she stuffed a couple fries into her mouth and asked: “What?”

“Sex.”

Abby chewed calmly. “Not really. I can take care of myself just fine.”

Such an Abby response. Disarming frankness was one of her countless qualities — something else she and Ian had in common.

The same couldn’t be said about Phil, who, after four decades of people pleasing, still had a hard time choosing honesty over the other person’s comfort.

That was actually what had drawn him to Abby in the first place: he felt safe with her, he didn’t have to tear everything she said apart to decipher the hidden meanings.

If she said yes, it was yes; if she said no, it was no.

If she said she didn’t miss sex, she didn’t miss it.

“Not even a little bit?”

“I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

Phil wasn’t sure, either. “So we’re gonna get married and just skip marital duties?”

“Why not? We don’t even want children. I don’t see the problem here.”

“You don’t see the problem.”

“I really don’t.”

Phil closed the empty pizza box and tossed it on the coffee table. “We haven’t slept together in ages and you don’t see the problem.”

Now he was making it sound like it was her fault. What a hypocrite.

Unimpressed, Abby rested her head back on the cushion. “Is that a problem for you ? ”

“No, but I don’t count, do I?” Too harsh, again.

“If it’s not an issue to either of us, the case is closed.” Abby countered Phil’s sceptical look with an impatient one. “Some couples don’t watch movies or play sports together… We don’t have sex. What’s the difference?”

“Are you comparing sex to a hobby?”

“Absolutely. Not everyone has it, not everyone likes it or likes it the same way. It’s a recreational activity like any other.”

A crooked grin tugged at Phil’s lips. That right there was the woman he loved: confident and no-bullshit, practical to the bone.

How could he tell her he had feelings for someone else? Someone he was seeing on a daily basis and she thought was his good friend — which wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth, either.

Abby put a hand on his knee and stroked it comfortingly. “What’s going on, Phil?”

He held his breath. He cherished that — the tender intimacy of a simple caress, the sweetness of Abby’s kisses and her soothing hugs. He didn’t want to lose any of it. But he couldn’t live with all those lies rotting in the dark.

“I’m getting hard again.”

He let it out like a sigh, a thorn ripped out of his side, as if it was the opposite of good news. It didn’t compute right away.

“Oh?” Abby sat up, blinking a couple of times before the penny finally dropped.

“Oh, Phil!” She pulled him into a bone-crushing hug that infused an unspeakable happiness into him.

“That’s amazing!” she muttered against his earshell, stroking the nape of his neck.

They stayed like that for a minute, savouring the embrace, then Abby pulled back to take his face between her hands, pressing her lips to his forehead.

“I knew coming here was the right decision. We’re never going back to all that fancy frenzy. ”

Phil faltered. “I thought you’d want—”

A big, luminous smile stabbed his heart. “I want you to be happy and healthy, and you were neither in Chicago. ”

There had been a time he’d thought life in Chicago was good — his little life , made of trivial things, unpretentious. But now that he was taking his first bumbling steps here in Glasgow he felt like, for the first time, he was in the right place at the right time.

He brushed Abby’s hair behind her ears and granted himself a minute to contemplate his luck.

This woman had done so much for him without ever expecting anything in return.

She took his highs and lows with a smile, put up with his bullshit even when all he deserved was a slap, gave him all the space and time he needed, no questions asked.

She was one of a kind and he still couldn’t believe they had found each other in the whole wide world.

He kissed her, a light, soft brush upon her lips, which stretched out into a smile as she kissed him back, just as softly.

He’d missed this, this kind of spontaneous intimacy he’d denied them both out of fear it’d evolve into something he couldn’t give.

But Abby would never force him and what she was offering him was exactly what he needed, nothing less, nothing more: just a kiss full of love and her priceless, soul-healing warmth.

Abby pulled back to run a hand through his hair, smoothing it back. “I’m sorry I was too self-absorbed to see that our old lifestyle was taking such a toll on you.”

“It’s not your fault. I should’ve done something when I realised I was struggling.”

“Dwelling on the past is no use. We need to focus on the present, and you know what? Your news deserves a celebration.” With one last peck, Abby left him on the couch and padded out of the room, returning shortly after with two cans in her hands. She placed one in front of Phil.

“A little bird told me you like it.”

It was beer, the non-alcoholic one he’d had with Ian.

“A little two-hundred-eighty-pound bird?”

Abby opened her can and took a nonchalant sip. “Maybe.”

“You and Ian are besties now?”

“We happen to be very fond of the same old fool. ”

Phil’s heart did a funny thing, a shy leap in which affection and guilt battled to take over.

“Should I worry?” he tried to joke. “I can’t compete with a hot Scottish hunk.”

“Nonsense.” Abby opened the other can and placed it into his hands. “No one’s hotter than you.”

“You’re biased.”

“One-hundred percent.” Abby cuddled up against his side. Phil put an arm around her and they went back to the movie, whose plot he had completely lost track of by now.